Page 49 of What’s Left of Us

“Are you here?” I whisper. “Or are you gone?”

No one replies. There isn’t so much as the screech of a seagull.

“If you’re gone…” I trail off, breathing deeply until the tightness in my throat eases. “If you’re gone, can you give me a sign? I know you never believed in stuff like that. I don’t really either. But if you send one, I’ll believe it. I promise. I just…”

Tears line my face again. I must be close to running out. I wipe them away, smearing them across my cheeks. I’m sure I’ve ruined my makeup.

“Do you hate him?” I whisper to the breeze. “Do you want me to hate him, too? Because I have, for so long, and I’ll keep hating him if that’s what you want. But I’m…I’m so tired, Nat.”

A sharp gust of wind rustles the hem of my dress. Every exposed inch of my skin is covered in goosebumps now. The sun hasn’t started to set, but it won’t be long. I’m going to have to go inside eventually. I’ll have to face Atlas. I’ll have to tell him something.

I tuck my chin against my knees.

Even though I know I should, I don’t get up. I remain frozen where I am, shivering, teeth chattering. The beach has been vacant for a while, but as the sun starts to set, people reappear to watch the sky change colors. I don’t move, not until he calls my name.

I startle and twist in the direction of Mark’s Bed and Breakfast. Atlas stands at the end of the neighborhood trail. He’s wearing a thick sweatshirt now and carrying a fuzzy plaid blanket. I don’t recognize it from his truck, so it must be one from the rental.

When I start to rise, he waves for me to remain seated.

“I’m not trying to rush you,” he says as he reaches me. He crouches at my side in a way that suggests he doesn’t plan to stay. “I just brought you a blanket. And some snacks.”

He unfolds the blanket, and a collection of treats falls out. A bag of pickle chips—the nice kind, not the off-brand ones I packed, a few protein bars, a nachos Lunchable. As I pick up the bag of chips, he shakes out the blanket and drapes it around my shoulders.

“Do you want to stay?” I don’t look at him when I ask. I’m staring at the bag of chips, feeling a strange blend of embarrassment and exhaustion. Atlas doesn’t answer right away, and I understand all too easily. I’m chasing him off one moment. Begging him to stay the next. It’s confusing to me. I can’t imagine how it feels for him. I ask louder. “Will you stay? Please.”

Atlas sits cross-legged beside me. I move the blanket until it’s spread evenly over our laps. Then, I tear open the nachos and eat a handful of round chips. I’m going to need proper dinner at some point, but this should at least ease the ache in my stomach. I moan without meaning to.

“I wasn’t sure you still liked those,” he says, chuckling.

“I do.” My cheeks heat, but I’m too hungry to slow down. “I didn’t know you brought food.”

“I didn’t,” he says. “There’s a gas station nearby. I just grabbed a couple things.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He shifts, pulling his sweatshirt over his head. He holds it toward me, arching a brow when I start to protest. “You’re shivering, Violet. Take it.”

He holds my food while I pull it over my dress, and I feel another flicker of disappointment. I don’t care if it’s weird, I’m going to wear this dress again tomorrow. It was wasted on today.

After I’ve finished snacking, and the sky has lit up in a blend of oranges and purples and pinks, I look over at Atlas. He’s watching the horizon, but he’s quick to meet my gaze, a soft smile in place.

“I don’t know how to forgive you,” I say, voice hoarse. Atlas winces, but then he nods, like he understands. Like he doesn’t blame me, no matter how much it hurts him. “But I’ve missed you. As terrible as it makes me feel, I like being around you.”

Atlas swallows.

“I don’t want you to feel terrible, Violet. If it’s easier⁠—”

I scoot closer, until our bare legs touch and I can rest my head on his shoulder. His words break off on a sharp intake of breath.

“I missed you,” I say again. Firmer.

“I missed you more.” He winds his arm around me, hugging me against his side. There’s a slight tremble to his arm, like he’s anchoring me to him, determined to keep me exactly where I am.

And for once, I don’t try to run.

Chapter 21

now